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I t was well after dark when Noah returned to Mariposa. He wasn’t able to go back to Bungalow Fifteen. Not after going several rounds with Roger and Dayton Ferraday at the police station.

He hadn’t accepted Captain Crabtree’s orders that Fulton be the one to question them. He’d gone about the task himself with grim determination.

Roger Ferraday would do time. The Coltons’ lawyer, Greg Sumpter, had shown up with Adam on Laura’s behalf to demand that he be brought up on assault charges while Joshua had escorted Laura to the hospital to get checked out.

The younger Ferraday wouldn’t get away from rape accusations this time. Bella, the maid, had changed her mind about not testifying after Adam and Tallulah had spoken to her personally. She was traumatized and scared but had seemed determined to put Dayton away once she found out about the other girls he had assaulted in Connecticut.

Fulton, certain Dayton was Allison’s killer, had Bungalow Three searched, confident fentanyl would be recovered from the scene.

Instead, small quantities of Ecstasy were found in Dayton’s mattress.

When Noah had leaned harder on Roger, the man cracked under the pressure and admitted the reason he had no alibi for the night of Allison’s homicide was he had found the bulk of his son’s drug stash and the two of them had snuck out under the cover of night to dump it on the hiking trails.

By the end of the interview, Noah had wanted to lock Roger up on more than assault. He’d expressed no regret about holding Laura against her will or harming her, and he’d blamed Bella and the other girls for his son’s criminal behavior.

Noah had thought of little more than punching the bastard in the face. But he’d known Crabtree was watching through the two-way glass, anticipating the moment Noah lost his cool.

He’d kept it—but only just.

Now he trudged up the walk to Laura’s place. The door opened before he could get to it and Joshua, Adam, Tallulah and Alexis stepped out together. They stopped talking collectively when they spotted him.

Tallulah reached for his hand. “Laura’s okay. It’s good you’re here. She doesn’t need to be alone tonight.”

The feeling of her hand in his felt foreign, but it was pleasantly warm. “You had dinner with her?”

“You weren’t exactly here to keep her company,” Joshua said in accusation.

Adam surprised Noah when he argued, “Go easy on the man, Josh. I’m sure he has his reasons.”

When the four of them looked at him expectantly, Noah said, “I had to go up to Flagstaff. I got delayed there and didn’t get Laura’s message until she’d left the hospital.”

“That was hours ago,” Joshua pointed out. “Flagstaff’s half an hour away.”

Noah swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

Alexis eyed the bag in his hand. “Do you come bearing gifts?”

He thought of what was in the bag. A blip of panic made him itch for something more—a better offering. “Yes.”

“Good,” Alexis noted. “There’s no concussion, but doctors advised her not to imbibe for the next twenty-four hours.”

“Noted,” he said.

“Good night to you, Noah,” Tallulah murmured before walking away. Alexis followed her. Joshua said nothing as he moved off.

That left Adam. “Anything you have to say to my sister can wait until the morning.”

Noah searched for the right words. “I’d like to see her.”

Adam studied him. “You were good with Bella. You made giving her statement easier.”

“So did you,” Noah said, “and Tallulah.”

“Roland told me what happened at Bungalow Three,” Adam explained. “He told me how Roger had her in a choke hold and how you apprehended him.”

“She got hurt,” Noah noted dully. The scene was on a loop in his mind. Ferraday shoving Laura away to save his own ass, her skidding into the table, knocking her head against it and falling to the floor, bleeding.

“I’ve asked Roland not to reveal your real identity,” Adam pointed out. “Not until your investigation comes to a close.”

“Thank you,” Noah said.

“Laura says Dayton Ferraday may have killed Allison.”

Noah shook his head. “He and his father confirmed each other’s real alibis for the night in question.”

“So you’re back to square one?”

“Not if you tell me CJ Knight checked in this morning,” Noah told him.

“He did,” Adam confirmed.

Noah breathed a small sigh of relief. “That’s something.”

Adam gave him a tight nod. He started to go, then stopped. “Go easy on Laura. She puts up a good front for all of us, but she’s raw tonight.”

“I will.” He waited until Adam had gone before knocking.

He lingered for two minutes. When she didn’t answer, he tried the door and muttered something foul when he found she hadn’t locked it behind the others.

“Laura?” he called through the house as he stepped inside.

The door closed behind him. Everything was quiet, eerily so.

“Laura!” he shouted.

He checked the bedroom. Her sheets hadn’t been turned down. The door to the connected bathroom was open, and the light was off. He moved to the kitchen. Five plates and cups were stacked in the dish drain next to the sink. The couch in the living room was empty except for the unimpressed tabby who flicked his bushy tail at him. “Where is she?” he asked.

Sebastian lifted a paw and started to clean it.

“You’re no help,” Noah groaned. Then a movement on the other side of the glass caught his eye. He peered out. The steam of the heated pool rose to meet the cool night. In the blue glow of the pool lights, he could see arms cutting across the water like sharks.

He slid open the door, similar to the one he’d thrown a brick through earlier. Walking out on the patio, he watched her lap the pool four times without stopping, hardly coming up for air in between.

She cycled through freestyle, then backstroke, butterfly, then breaststroke. By the time she stopped, finally, he was ready to go in after her.

She gripped the edge of the pool, gasping. He saw the shaking in her limbs.

“Are you trying to hurt yourself?” he asked.

She jerked in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

He stared at the goose egg on her forehead. She’d taken off the bandage. There were no stitches, but bruises webbed across her brow.

As he surveyed the damage to her face, the fury came sweeping back in stark detail, and it crushed him.

She looked away. Using her arms, she pulled herself from the water.

He gripped her underneath the shoulder, helping her to her feet.

“I’ve got it,” she said, taking a step back.

He dropped his arm. “Sure you do.”

She reached for the towel she’d set on the nearby lounge chair. She patted her hair dry, then her face, hissing when she pressed the towel to the bump on her head.

He reached for her even as she turned away to dry her arms and legs. Then she wrapped the towel around her middle and knotted it as he’d seen her do before. Finished, she bypassed him for the door.

He tailed her, feeling foolhardy. “I should’ve punched him,” he grumbled.

“That would have been counterproductive,” she muttered. “Isn’t your CO scrutinizing you?”

“Why did you go into that bungalow?” he asked. He’d needed to ask from the moment he’d found out she’d gone. “You thought Dayton Ferraday killed Allison, and you went to confront him and his father? Why?”

“It’s my fault,” she said. “He could only assault Bella because I didn’t warn Housekeeping or others that he was a predator. I should’ve told them to steer clear of Bungalow Three. I went because I wanted to be the one to tell Dayton Ferraday that he will spend the rest of his life paying for what he’s done.”

“Ferraday didn’t kill Allison,” Noah told her.

She stopped. “What?”

“Father and son gave their real alibis,” Noah explained weightily. “They check out.”

“But the date rape...the fentanyl...his attack on Bella... It all fits.”

“Small traces of Ecstasy were recovered from Bungalow Three,” Noah went on. “There’s no sign of fentanyl.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means CJ Knight is now the chief suspect in this investigation. But that’s for me to worry about. You can’t do this to me again. You can’t go charging into a suspect’s bungalow and try to take matters into your own hands. Whoever killed Allison will most likely kill you.”

“I am not Allison!” she said, raising her voice.

“The man had you in a choke hold.”

“I was doing my job.”

“So was my sister,” he reminded her. Unable to stop himself, he reached out to feather his touch across the first stain of bruising. “It’s starting to hurt. Isn’t it? And he scared you. That’s the reason you were doing laps out there. Because you were alone long enough to feel the fear again.” He pressed his cheek to hers, felt the shaking in her limbs and pulled her close, not caring that she was wet and he wasn’t.

When he lifted her into his arms, she protested. He quieted her by touching his mouth to the rim of her jaw. “It’s a soak in the tub for you. Then bed.”

“You sound like Tallulah.”

“Do you listen to her?”

“Sometimes.” She pillowed her head on his shoulder, giving in as he sidestepped through the door to the bedroom so she wouldn’t catch her toes on the jamb. There, he set her on the wingback chair.

“Take off your suit.”

“Do you want me to dance for you when I’m done?” she drawled.

He ignored that and went into the bathroom to draw her a bath, throwing in some Epsom salts. When he came back for her, she was naked and shivering still. He bundled her up again, took her into the bathroom and lowered her into the water.

She let out a sharp breath as she sank in.

“Too hot?” he asked.

“No.” She tipped her head back against the lip. “No. It’s perfect.” She flicked a glance at him when he lingered. “I’m not going to drown.”

Reaching into his back pocket, he took out the little bag he’d brought to her door. “I bought this while I was in town.”

She eyed the box he held with mixed levels of curiosity. “For me?”

When she didn’t reach out, he opened it himself. “I found it while I was in Sedona.” On a small cushion, a delicate strand of gold held a single pearl teardrop.

Her eyes rushed up to meet his. “You bought this—for me?”

He bit his tongue, trying to come up with the right thing to say. “It’s not flowers.”

“No,” she said.

“Or dinner. But it looked...right.”

She only stared.

He groaned at her reticence. “If you don’t want it, I can take it back. I’ve got the receipt right here—”

“Shut up,” she said without heat. “Just...shut up and put it on me.”

She straightened, her shoulders rising above the water. Lifting her hair, she turned.

He took the necklace out of the box, unclasped it and lowered it over her head. Securing it at the base of her neck, he eased back as she turned to him again. The pearl rested just above her sternum in the dip between her breasts. She touched it. “How does it look?” she asked.

He shook his head. “It looks like I brought feldspar to an empress.”

She leaned over the tub wall, meeting his mouth with her own, silencing him and his doubts.

He brought his hand up to her face. Easy , he told himself, feeling the quaking in his bones again. Not fury this time. The fear was there and the need, too. Always.

She pulled away. Her eyes flashed blue. “Stay with me?”

It was impossible to argue. “That’s a hard yes.”

Her smile was a tender curve meant for him alone as she reclined again against the tub wall and gripped his fingers on the ledge.

He watched over her until the water cooled. Then he helped her dry and dress for bed.

Back in her sheets, he held her until he felt her soften into repose. It took a long time to follow, but when he did, he had his nose buried in her hair and his arm tight around her middle, unwilling to let her go in the silent, anonymous hours between night and day.